Pieces Of You
by Rebecca Parker
Summary: Dawn POV on Buffy's death


TITLE 

  
  
TITLE: Pieces of You (1/1)   
AUTHOR: Rebecca Parker   
EMAIL: NumfarGal@aol.com   
RATING: PG   
SUMMARY: Dawn POV on Buffy's death.   
FEEDBACK: I do the Dance of Joy upon receipt of feedback, so yes please!   
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon (aka Genius) and Mutant Enemy own all.   
DISTRIBUTION: At my site (http://www.ourowndestiny.com), and all the usual suspects. All others, please ask first.   
DEDICATION: To Naomi, whose love of my Dawn makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.   
  
  
  
You know- when you made me sit through "Message in a Bottle" a few years ago, I hated you for it.   
  
I wanted to watch "90210" or "Melrose Place" or something else incredibly lame that no 12-year-old should watch.   
  
But Mom was out, and you were watching me, so you flicked to HBO and made me watch that boring Kevin Costner movie.   
  
You were crying over Angel then, so I just folded my arms and pouted. You were so unreasonable- anything I complained about either drove you to tears or drove you to scream my ears off.   
  
I learned where to draw the line with you, and I knew that night that I was going to have to just deal with your television choices.   
  
So I sat there and wondered what Kelly and Dylan were up to, and I watched your swoony love story.   
  
But see, looking back, I'm glad I did. I'm not saying I liked the movie cause- yuck. How pathetic was it? But the thing is, it gave me this idea.   
  
See, I don't know if you remember or not- but in the movie, this chick finds a message in a bottle (guess that's where they got the title from) and in the message is this really romantic letter that Kevin's wife had thrown in the ocean before she died.   
  
So this chick gave it to Kevin, and it kinda made him feel better about everything. Then they fell in love and had sex (I think I covered my eyes at that point) and everything after that was pretty much a one way ticket to a sugar overdose- and not of the good kind.   
  
So anyway, what I'm getting at here is- what if you did that? What if somewhere out by the beach, there's this message from you just floating around and waiting to find its way to me?   
  
Listen, I know what you're thinking- you gave me your message before you jumped. All that "Live...for me" stuff, which, I want you to know, meant a lot to me. I'm not saying that I'm ignoring what you said or looking for something more meaningful. The thing is, I was just looking for something more. Cause I refused to think that that was all I had of you.   
  
So I told Giles my theory and of course he did that whole British "hmm" thing that he always does when he's just humoring you. I'm sure you remember it well. I could just tell he was going to talk me out of it, but then Spike stepped in.   
  
Buffy, I want you to know that he's been by my side almost 24/7. I don't know what you said to him, but he's like my second shadow now. It would almost be creepy, but he's got this look in his eyes like protecting me is a way to keep a part of you alive. You - your wish. It's like they're all the same to him.   
  
See- I was talking about spending the night on the beach just looking for *something* from you, but Giles was all "I don't think that's the safest course of blah blah blah". You know, just like Spike is protective of me, Giles is the same way. But instead of doing it to keep a part of you alive, I think Giles does it to keep himself.   
  
I don't want to even go into how bad Giles was after you died. Just two words- Pit. Despair. It was that bad. It took us months to get him to stop drinking, to get him to stop blaming himself.   
  
Actually, I doubt he has. I really don't think any of us has. Willow blames herself for being so focused on Tara those last days. Xander blames himself for sitting out most of the fight and waiting for a chance to go Glory-bowling. Spike blames himself for not saving me so Doc would have never done his whole slice and dice thing.   
  
And me? I blame myself for being the reason you died. I blame myself for existing. But you know this. I know you do. You're up there somewhere keeping an eye on me and probably shaking your head right about now that I had this crazy notion that there's this message from you floating somewhere out there.   
  
But it *was* in my head and, try as Giles might, it wasn't going anywhere. So every day at sunset, I go to Spike's crypt, and we walk down to the beach together. We spend the time talking about school, the gang, or even what a bitch Kirstie still is. (She's made me her latest pity case because both you and Mom died. I think she thinks if she takes me under her wing, she'll get brownie points with the God of the Mall or something.)   
  
He's kinda made himself into my big brother, you know? I tell him about the boys who pick on me, and he threatens to rip his throat out- well, you know- if he still could.   
  
He jokes about how he was so "bloody sure that fall would have knocked the soddin' chip into his toenails," but it's still working. We tried it out one night when he tried to slap my hand, and wouldn't you know, he was on the floor moaning and groaning. I laughed pretty hard about that one, and then he threatened to rip all my Barbie's heads off.   
  
See- that's one of the reasons I've gotten over my crush on Spike. He'll never see me as anything but a kid. I haven't had Barbies for years now, but he's still got this picture in his head like I go home and braid their hair or something.   
  
Besides- what's the point of having a thing for him? He loves you now more than he ever did before. I think somewhere, mid-jump, it's like you'll always be frozen in time for him. You'll always be that Buffy that took her life to save all of ours, and you'll never be the Buffy that called him a "pig" more than I called him "Spike".   
  
But anyway, that's not what I want to talk to you about. I mean, I just wanted to let you know how he is, and how I'm over him, cause I know you always worried about that. I'm back to having crushes on regular guys- you know- the type with souls and pulses, and all that.   
  
So Spike and I spend most nights just walking the beach, looking for some bottle just floating around out there, waiting for me to pick it up.   
  
I started this huge seashell collection, but then I remembered the frame I gave you for your birthday, and it just made me sad. You see- I don't have any more presents to give you. You won't have any more birthdays, or Christmases or whatever. So I took the seashells I had, and made one last frame. I left it by your grave and, the next day when I came back, it was gone.   
  
We spent a lot of nights finding nothing, and we headed home feeling like we'd never see you, or a part of you, again.   
  
But then one night, I spotted one a few feet out, and I rushed right into the water to grab it. Spike went wading in after me, but when I picked it up, all that was inside was some days old beer.   
  
Next to finding out Mom died and watching you jump from that tower, I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in my life. I threw that bottle back into the surf and just fell down into the water. I think I must have passed out or something because the next thing I remember, it's morning and I'm back in my bed.   
  
I started to think maybe I dreamt the whole thing, but then I took my shoes off and water and sand fell out. So no, it happened. And I almost didn't go back to the beach that night but then something else happened.   
  
I went down to check the mail, and there it was. It was a letter you had sent out to Riley and somehow you seemed to think "Riley Finn, Belize" was a sufficient mailing address. Or maybe it was just your way of saying what needed to be said. Kinda like what I'm doing right now.   
  
So now- don't get mad at me for reading the letter. I know it's personal, and I had no right, but the thing is, for that one moment, I had a piece of you that I didn't before. There was a piece of my big sister out there that no one had ever seen. I had to read it.   
  
Let me just say it now- you were really good at hiding what you felt, Buffy. When Riley left, you acted like it didn't break you, but now, after reading your letter, I know it did.   
  
The first time I read it, I hated myself. I thought- shouldn't I have known how much you were hurting? I mean- I lived in the room right next to yours. I saw you every day and I had NO idea that you felt "like a part of you died" when he left. I had no idea that you kept his pictures underneath your pillow, or that you called the government every day begging for some information on where he was.   
  
But then I realized that you wouldn't have wanted me to know that. You wouldn't have wanted me to see you so vulnerable, because you were my big sister. Big sisters were supposed to be strong. Big sisters weren't supposed to cry themselves to sleep every night. I mean- that was what you were thinking, right?   
  
But the thing is Buffy, and I don't think you ever really knew this- you were more than just a sister to me. You were my hero. Are. I mean, yeah, for a while the whole "slayer" thing didn't impress me. I was always jealous because it was a way that you were special that I could never be. Mom was always so proud of you, and I thought she let you get away with anything because of it. But then I realized that there was more to life than who had to clean their room, and who didn't.   
  
So I started to get what it meant to be the Slayer. I started to understand how it was more than just an excuse to stay out late and smooch Angel or Riley. I started to get that it wasn't exactly something I should be jealous of. And I thought that I started to get you.   
  
But I didn't. I didn't really get you until I read that letter. I read it start to finish, and I really saw you for the first time. And you know what? I saw all that vulnerability you were so scared to show, and I still loved you. Even more, if that was possible. You never needed to hide from me- or from any of us.   
  
There was one part that I read over and over, your words touching me so deeply.   
  
"There are so many things I wish I'd done differently, Riley. I feel like I've made mistake after mistake this past year, and I don't know where or how to start fixing them. You're beyond my reach now- I don't even know if these words will ever get to you. But I have to believe that wherever you are, you know somewhere deep down that I love you. That somehow, you know that no matter what happens, I always will."   
  
Riley was out of your reach then, and you're out of my reach now. But I have to believe what you said, and know that the same is true of you and me. Maybe you'll never see or hear these words I'm writing to you, sending them off in my own bottle, but I have to believe you know every word without ever finding it.   
  
So I found my message from you, Buffy. I don't need to walk those beaches every night anymore, but I still do. You know why?   
  
Spike. I may not need that message from you anymore, Buffy, but he still does. I can't show him the letter to Riley because it will only hurt instead of help. He needs to find his own piece of you, and I know he'll never really go on until he does.   
  
He told me something one night that really got to me. He was telling me about a demon he had fought the night before, and how the demon had nearly broken his leg before Spike took him down. I watched him as he walked the beach, and I didn't see a limp at all, so I asked him about it. Do you know what he said?   
  
"Vamp powers heal me up real good, real fast." And then he kinda looked out over the water and added, "not in the places that need it the most, tho."   
  
So I'm going to keep coming out to the beach every night with him because he needs it. Maybe if he finds something, he can start to heal like I've started to.   
  
It doesn't mean I love you less, or that I miss you less. It just means that I have a piece of you to keep me from being lonely, and something to make each night without you just a little bit easier.   
  
THE END   
  
  
  
  
  



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